Black Hair
by stealacandy
Summary: Too weird for one. Starts as a parody on all those Harry is the Black Heir and ends in a HPSP Xover. Crazy, in a good way, laugher garanteed I think, and Voldemort is killed by muggle means, for those who like this kind of story. Don't forget to bring
1. Black Hair

I read one too many story where Harry gets a letter from Sirius and then... does stuff. I don't know. Rape Bella? And Cissy too? Start Weasley bashing? Going on a rampage and ending up with exterminate all the rats in Hamlin? Getting Dumbledore arrested as a paedophile? or Snape as a necrophilie? Hooking up with Draco? Have a Crabb-cake? Elope with Hermione, then find out she's Ginny under polyjuice, hire send assassins to kill her, who get a morphed Tonks instead, and ending up with Harry owing restitutions to Andromeda, paying his dues in his own 'special way', then, looking for some sisterly love, raping Bella? and Cissy too? Something like that.

I finally had enough, and couldn't resist making something of it.

So this is what I came up with. Sorry for the Vulgarity.

And don't blame me. I'm talking to a towel, for fuck's sake!

**Disclaimer**: Don't drive drunk. Don't dial drunk. Try avoiding shagging drunk, you don't know where (or with whom) you will end up. But writing fanfiction drunk is the only way, otherwise you'd realize your wasting your time and talent... after all, you don't own Harry Potter, you don't profit from writing, the whole shebang.

Well, neither do I.

**A/N**: This is the Towlie free version of this story, for you South-Park flamers. I started writing it that way, then towlie came, we got high, and he bribed me, in his own special way, into writing him into the story. So II did a second edition, you can find it in chapter 2. I wouldn't though, if I it was me.

No… I was kidding, chapter 2 is gooood! Seriously, I wrote more dialogues, commentary, back-story and even that blasted sequel in chapter 3. Still, I strongly recommend reading this clean, stand-alone version first. Or after. Or even along side. If for nothing else, it's good for a laugh.

Chapter 3 is the ordained demise of the Dark Lord, and an ode to Hair-Care products. It is completely unrelated to the first two chapters, and is the best yet. Still, it would be a good idea if you need read chapter 2 first. BTW, with the last story I published here, I noticed that in two days I got 500 hits. "Neat!" I said, then I saw that the first chapter got 300 and the second only 200. Which is good enough, but still, a full 100 readers read the first chapter and didn't go on to the next, which is a pity, as the first was an intro, and was nothing like the rest of the story, and if anything, it was foreshadowing the last two chapters and the planned sequel. The actual story was _way_ better. So this time I'm taking no chances. In this story, the three chapters are not related, and each new one is better then the last. If you think otherwise, don't hesitate to tell me, I'm open for suggestions and I can always edit this story. (hint: reviews, we likes them, precious, oh yes we do!)

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"...So, Harry. I want you to promise to have fun, shag many birds, drink a lot of beer, then some more, the Shag the rest.

"I wrote you this because to have a will I have to be of sound mind and body... and face it - I just spent twelve years in Azkaban, of course my body is a wrack.

"With that, My dear Harry, I bid you goodbye... know that you always have a star above shinning just for you. I'd go for mooning, but that's more up Remus's alley.

"Your loving godfather,

"Serious

(for once)

Sirius.

Harry finished reading the letter, moisture in his eyes. "I will, Sirius, I will."

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"But Mr. Dumbledore, your brother is just over there, why can't you ask him instead?"

"What, trust Albus with Shrewit? Never!"

"Oh Kay," said Harry carefully.

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"Well, who else could it be?", demanded Ron, enraged. "I have red hair, Neville's sandy, Seamus is brown and Dean shaves, so It can only be you! You're the only one here with black hair! And you did promise Sirius you would shag after drinking, and yesterday evening in the Hog's Head, having succumbed to Aberfoth pleas for me to take care of his goat for the weekend, you and me got drinking so bad you must have thought Fifi is... Is… I don't know, Lavender?"

"If anything, I would go with Malfoy. It's the hair, you see, all that white." said Harry, unperturbed.

"Aeww, don't make me sick!" Ron might have turned green at this point, but seeing as he already have, it passed unnoticed. "And Malfoy's a ferret, not a goat! And what would he be doing in Gryffindor tower?"

"And what would I have to do with Malfoy? I have promised Sirius to get drunk and shag girls!" replied Harry, triumphantly. "You see! It couldn't be me!"

"But it's the hair! Like you said Harry, it's the hair! Who else would have black pubic hair?" asked Ron.

"...err... Harry kinda have a point, Ron. Like the next kid, he would shag Lavender, but Malfoy?" wondered Neville. "Who would shag Malfoy?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other. "Snape!" they both exclaimed.

"Snape could make his way in here," started Neville slowly, "as a teacher he would have access, even if McGonagall would frown upon the head of Slytherin coming uninvited and unescorted into 'her' domain. And he does have the black hair. But wouldn't he know where exactly Malfoy is? mean, he practically lord over the Slytherin dungeons!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked away, in dawning apprehension.

"Ewww!" said Harry.

"Blarge!" said Ron.

"What is it?" asked Neville, worryingly.

"Greasy git didn't think it was Malfoy!" offered Ron, in a way of explanation.

"Then wah- ... never mind. Blarge! Blarge! Blaaarrrrge!"

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In his chambers, Dumbledore was finding new uses for his wand maintenance kit.

"Damn Alastor and his practical jokes," he thought. "mixing asphalt with my Vaseline. Humpff!"

**The End! **

And Towlie says: "Don't forget to bring a towel!"

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**A/N**: This fic is slightly AU, as I pretended that only 6th year Gryffindor boys could get into the 6th year Gryffindor boys' dormitory, from amongst the students at least, and we know that's not true, as Hermione managed to come in, and she's a girl. Or at least, most people assume she is. But maybe she's a boy? She's certainly smart enough to find a way to circumvent the wards protecting the girls dorms and get inside, getting an eyeful every night. I'm sure Sirius, at least, and probably James as well, had done that on more then one occasion. Or maybe Hermi's pretending she's a girl in order to get one of the boys hooked with him and only tell him he's a dude after one of these binding magical marriage contracts. She's certainly not into girly / womanly stuff like Lav & Parv are. And she did obsess with Lockhart, after all. Who knows? Certainly not I, I value my life, lord. My sanity too, to some degree.


	2. Black Hair, Blue Towel

I already explained the wirings of my brain in the 1st edition. As for Towlie? He just begged me to put him in. And towels can be very convincing, believe me.

Boy, I just read this one over and I'm finding innuendoes I never intended. But I like it that way, so that way it stays.

And once again, sorry for the vulgarity. I just read some very disturbing stories, and now I am very disturbed.

**Disclaimer**: If you're writing fan fiction, might as well talk to a towel. It pays dividends just as well.

**A/N**: This is the result of my deal with Towlie. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**P.S.**: As I said before, I strongly recommend reading chapter 1 first.

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"...So, Harry. I want you to promise to have fun, shag many birds, drink a lot of beer, then some more, the Shag the rest.

"I wrote you this because to have a will I have to be of sound mind and body... and face it - I just spent twelve years in Azkaban, of course my body is a wrack.

"With that, My dear Harry, I bid you goodbye... know that you always have a star above shinning just for you. In fact, the whole constellation. I'd would have gone for the moon, but I'm a dog, not a cow. And Remus is the one usually moons, anyway.

"Your loving godfather, keeping company with the Grim (and all his bitches)

"Serious

(for once),

Sirius.

Harry finished reading the letter, wiping moisture from his eyes with his hand. "I will, Sirius, I will." he promised.

"Don't forget to bring a towel." said Towlie. "you wanna get high?"

Harry was too distraught to notice, or he would be alarmed at seeing a talking towel.

Dudley, on the other hand, just assumed he already was high, but a little more fun never hurt anyone.

"Yeah, why not?" he said.

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"But Mr. Dumbledore, your brother is just over there, why can't you ask him instead?"

"What, trust Albus with Shrewit? Never!"

"Oh Kay," said Harry carefully.

"So you'll do it, Weasley? For me?"

"I guess so," shrugged Ron, uncertainly.

"Good," said Aberforth with a smile, and went back to wiping glasses with a dirty rag.

"Towlie says, don't forget to bring a towel!" said the blue towel that stuck i'ts head in the window.

"Was that a talking towel?" asked Ron, bewildered.

"Don't know," said Harry, "go back to drinking." He was imagining things.

"You wanna get high?"

Yes, he was imagining things.

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"Well, who else could it be?", demanded Ron, enraged. "I have red hair, Neville's sandy, Seamus is brown and Dean shaves, so It can only be you! You're the only one here with black hair! And you did promise Sirius you would shag after drinking, and yesterday evening in the Hog's Head, having succumbed to Aberfoth pleas for me to take care of his goat for the weekend, you and me got drinking so bad you must have thought Fifi is... Is… I don't know, Lavender?"

["Lovender is blonde, not albino." said Dean, who wasn't colour blind, and was keen on girls, to Seamus, who was watching the entertainment.

"What are you doing, eyeing Lavender's hair?" demanded Seamus, who wasn't colour blind either, and was keen on Lavender.

"If anything, I would go with Malfoy, not Lav." said Harry, unperturbed.

["That sounded so wrong," commented Seamus, quietly.

"That sounded like one of Colin's erotic stories he wanted me to illustrate" said Dean.

"It's the hair, you see," continued Harry, "all that white."

"Huh?" grunted Ron.

"Your blasted goat has white hair! And it's everywhere. How could I mistake a goat for Lav? I couldn't have thought it's Lavender if I drank the Hogwarts lake! And I don't like Lavender!" said Harry, hotly.

["Fiew," said Seamus. "I might still stand a chance, then."

"Malfoy, on the other hand", started Harry, -

["He likes Malfoy?" "Ewww, grouse!"

"…has white hair, like your damn goat. And furry. Remember the amazing bouncing affair?" he finished.

"Aeww, don't make me sick!" Ron might have turned green at this point, but seeing as he already have, it passed unnoticed. "And Malfoy's a ferret, not a goat! And what would he be doing in Gryffindor tower?"

"And what would I have to do with Malfoy? I have promised Sirius to get drunk and shag girls!" replied Harry, triumphantly. "You see! It couldn't be me!"

"But it's the hair! Like you said Harry, it's the hair! Who else would have black pubic hair?" asked Ron.

"...err... Harry kinda have a point, Ron. Like the next kid, he would shag Lavender, but Malfoy?" wondered Neville. "Who would shag Malfoy?"

Ron and Harry looked at each other. "Snape!" they both exclaimed.

["Malfoy _and_ Snape?" said Dean. "That sounded like one of the stories Ginny wrote!"

"Ginny writes erotic stories too?" asked Seamous, who was reconsidering asking Lavender out.

"Yeah, she's been reading Colin's for so long, she decided to write on her own. Now they're weeping stories between themselves."

"Yeah, I s'ppose she _would_ like stories with Harry, wouldn't she?"

"Snape could make his way in here," started Neville slowly, -

["Snape, coming here, late at night?" asked Dean, raising an eyebrow.

"Ewww," said Seamus.

"As a teacher he would have access, even if McGonagall would frown upon the head of Slytherin coming uninvited and unescorted into 'her' domain." He continued.

["McGonagall coming here late at night?" said Seamus, with both eyebrows raised.

"Ewwww! Ewww! Ewwwwwwwww!" said Dean, sickly.

"…And he does have the black hair." said Neville. "But wouldn't he know where exactly Malfoy is? mean, he practically lord over the Slytherin dungeons!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then looked away, in dawning apprehension.

"Ewww!" said Harry.

"Blarge!" said Ron.

["Blarge," agreed Dean, although he was still stuck a couple of sentences back.

But Seamus compensated for that. "Ewww!" he said.

"What is it?" asked Neville, worryingly.

"Greasy git didn't think it was Malfoy!" offered Ron, in a way of explanation.

"Then wah- ... never mind that." Neville said, recoiling violently. "Blarge! Blarge! Blaaarrrrge!"

"Don't forget to bring a towel." said Towlie. "you wanna get high?"

"Thanks, I think-" muttered Neville.

"And no thanks," echoed Harry and Ron together.

"Did you two just speek with a towel?" Neville wanted to know.

"No." they answered in unison.

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In his chambers, Dumbledore was finding new uses for his wand maintainance kit.

"Damn Alastor and his practical jokes," he thought. "mixing asphalt with my vaselin. Humpff!"

_And Towlie says: "Don't forget to bring a towel!"_

Plopping a lemon drop in his mouth.

_"You wanna get high?"_

**The End! **

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Yet another legal **disclaimer**: I have a towel, I'm already high, and I don't own anything that has to do with colorado. (Isn't that some kind of vegetable?)

**A/N**: Other then the goat episode (which is only implicit), this story may sound tame, but because South-Park is PG-13, to stay on the safe side, I made it PG-13 too. Which leaves me with less potential readers, but with more room to manoeuvre, of which I will make good use in the following episode.

P.S. I couldn't come up with any proper name for the goat. I mean, if it was a cow, then it would be something clichéd like Edna or Bessie. If it was a sheep, it would be - well, I don't know any good sheep names either, Mary is the shepherd, not the sheep. If it was an elephant, it would be Dumbo, or Babar - I know they are guys, but I doubt they would fit in with anyone, and anyone planning on plummeting in wouldn't care which hole he hits probably, it's so big he could go in head over heels if he wanted. If it was a bitch, it would be Lassie, or Goldie or something, I don't know, what was the name of the bitch from the Lady and the Trump? Anyway, I didn't know any good goat-names, so I called our heroin "Fifi". If any of you, my faithful readers, can come up with a better name, please tell me about it. (hint: leave a review!) I will send you an e-brownie in return.


	3. The White Towel

Don't ask me how this came to be, I have no idea. And no, I'm not planning a sequel to this, Hermione or not, so don't come back in a week or so, looking for "The Return of the Kink!".

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the Harry Potter & co. characters, nor Stan, Kyle, Poopicook and Kenny. They belong to their respective creators. I don't condone violence, violence is the last resort of the incompetent. I don't make any money from this story, and frankly, the only ones who would pay for this crap probably escaped from the set of either film. A situation I dread, one which would probably end up bad, and cause violence. Which I don't condone in any way. But if one of JKR's lawyers are around…

**A/N**: Towlie was not satisfied with the last chapters, and wanted a bigger role. He peomised to make it worth my while, so here goes:

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Harry had a headache and was moistening his forehead.

"Don't forget to bring a towel!" said the hallucination that wasn't there. "You wanna get high?"

'Insane Dark Lords talking to me in my sleep, towels talking to me while awake, what's next?' wondered Harry. 'I'm surrounded with loonies!'

"Why don't you go bother Voldemort instead?"

"O.K.", said the towel.

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"_Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!_" said Voldemort.

Trevers got too his feet, and wiped perspiration with his sleeve.

"Don't forget to bring a towel!" said the white-striped blue towel.

"What's this, then?" asked Voldemort.

"That's a towel, Master," said the ever present Wormtail.

"I can see it is a towel, fool! _Crucio!_ What is it doing talking to me?"

"Maybe we should ask it what it wants?"

"Towel! What do you want?"

"You wanna get high?"

"Did you come to join me?" from Voldemort and "No, thank you, " from Pettigrew and "a talking towel!" from Travers, who finally recovered enough to notice.

"Towlie says, when doing things that are bound to have you slobbering all over, like being tortured with magic, don't forget to bring a towel to clean up after you, you drooling fool. That's why Towlie says: Always keep an extra towel!" answered the towel. "You wanna get high?"

"Who are you calling a fool!" demanded Voldemort, in rage, just as Wormtail asked: "Who are you calling drooling?" and Travers wondered "How are you talking at all?"

"You will pay for this!" said the Dark Lord. "I will torture you to insanity!"

Voldemort of course didn't know that, as he just met Towlie, but most people who ever met him would say, without hesitation, Towlie was already there. Which is why Towlie saw no wrong in baiting the most sadistic Dark Lord in three weeks.

"You don't have the nerve for it, huh!"

[On the side, Wormtail was floored. "You actually want to be cruciated?" 'Perhaps the towel should meet Bella.' he mused. 'tis about time she washed off all that Azkaban dirt, anyway.' Travers though: 'I'm hearing voices. Should probably talk to Bella, I finally lost it. But must she be so dirty?'

"I so do have the nerve! Here! _Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!_" Voldemort really got into it in times.

"Ha ha! I don't have any nerves myself, you'll have to come with something better then that! "

"So be it, towel," said Voldemort in an ominous voice, "so be it. Seize the towel!"

Wormtail jumped, and caught the towel, who wasn't going anywhere. Travers was still scratching his head.

"I said seize it, Travers! _Crucio! Crucio! Badaboom!_"

"Bring it here, Wormtail. Good, good. _Incendio!_" he said, the last bit after aiming his wand at the towel.

The towel was steaming, but didn't seem to smoulder or burn. In fact, the towel helped Wormtail with a little problem I will write later on, and the wetness caught in it's time-continuum circuits that now prevented it from burning and filled the room with fumes of urea, to the discomfort of it's occupants, save Towlie, who didn't have a sense of smell. Or much sense at all, come to think about it.

Travers, who was rather sensitive, on the other hand, took bad to the foul odour, and nearly chocked. Wormtail, who had the keenest sense of smell of them all, what with his extra animagus powers, didn't mind the smell, though, Rats practically live in a sewer, and he spent many a day trying to score a shag in some of the more welcoming parts of London. He now conjured a glass of water for Traverse, but the convulsing Death Eater accidentally beat his hand away, and Wormtail spilled the water all over himself.

"Don't forget to bring a towel!" said Towlie helpfully, and went to dry the chubby man.

"Diffindo won't work either, would it?" bemoaned the Dark Lord.

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"Narcissa, I called you here, because I need your help. Do you know any household charms?"

"I do my lord. I'm a little rusty, my family made sure I wouldn't use them, so-"

"Then why learn them in the first place?" the Dark Lord wondered.

"That's the proper Pure-Blood thing to do, learn everything you need to do, then find some half-breed to do it for you." explained the tall, sexy blond, with the flowing, silky, platinum hair, the seducing, blood-red lips, the easy, blue eyes, the alluring half-smile, the pronounced, soft curves you couldn't miss, the pair of perfectly shaped breasts in her bosom, untouched by age or gravity, thanks to her ever present feminine charms, her long, never-ending legs, starting with her shapely hips and fleshy thighs, down to the calves, sculptured in marble, and her sweet, little feet.

"Would you stop that?" said Voldemort. Wormtail was wetting himself.

"Sorry," I said, and went back to writing. "Just wanted to justify the rating, I did pg-13 for safety, because of alluding to the goat thing, you know". ("What goat thing?" wondered Wormtail.)

"That's better." said the imposing, dark, Dark Lord. "And very proper. Very proper indeed. I really should learn many things myself and then not do them. But not today, not today. Right now, I need you to teach me a charm to paint a towel white."

"Err…" hesitated the beautiful, stunning, astonishing, smashing, fabulous, ravishing,

"Enough!" shouted the Dark Lord.

"Sorry," I apologised, "my bad." and went back to writing.

… hesitated the pretty Death Eater. "I don't know any charm like that. Why would anyone want to paint a towel?"

"I'll show you." said Voldemort. "Wormtail!" Wormtail scattered close, "Bring in the prisoner."

'Oooh! They have finally captured that runaway house-elf!', thought Mrs. Malfoy, expecting to see the towel-clad Dobby. To her surprise, a towel was dragged in, but Dobby was nowhere in sight. 'Wait a second,' she thought. 'A towel was dragged in? It was resisting?' "what the-" she exclaimed.

"Towel!" said the Dark Lord.

"Wanna get high?" asked the towel.

"I promised to torture you. Narcissa over here was going to change your colour from blue to white." ("No! Not white!", gasp) "But since she failed me, I will now torture her instead. Either way, I win! Muhahahahah!" Lord Voldemort laughed evilly, and brought his wand to bear on the voluptuous - "I know! I know!"

"My lord, if I may?" asked Narcissa

"Yes, Narcissa?" said the Dark Lord dangerously.

"I may not know a charm that would directly paint a towel white, but I can't help but notice that this towel has blue stripes." she said.

"Yes, so?"

"Well, I do know of one charm, the Adobe charm, that will inverse the colour of objects. Then you will have a blue-stripped white towel, my lord."

("Not white! Not white! Anything but white! Oh! The horror! Oh, the humanity! Woe _is_ me!", cried the towel in desolution. "You wanna get high?)

"Very good, Narcisa, do commence with your spell." said the Dark Lord, ignoring the struggling towel. (as much as smirking malevolently can be called ignoring, that is.)

"Yes, my lord." said Narcissa. Taking careful aim, she pointed her wand at the towel and said: "Inverso".

Colour left Towlie's cheeks and it grew paler by the second. Then Colour left the rest of the towel and it was left with meagre strips of blue. It fell to it's knees. "No! Nooooo!" Towlie wailed, but nobody seemed to care.

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Lord Voldemort, excited with breaking yet another poor soul, dismissed his faithful servant Narcissa, and called on another. "Mr. Slave! Come here Mr. Slave!"

Peter Pettigrew came over. How he hated it when his master was in _that_ mood. He brought _The Tube_ along.

"Now, Mr Slave, could you let Mr. Rat into the tube?"

For Wormtail, Lord Voldemort was really the Lord of the Rings.

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Back in his room, Peter Pettigrew took a bath to clean his fur from all the faecal stuff. Coming out, he was greeted with a mourning towel. "Don't forget to bring a towel!" it said. "You wanna get high?", it asked, hopefully.

"I do, to God I do!" said Peter, and the two of them

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Harry & co. were in the village of Hogsmede, and were surprised ut has gone peacefully so far, with no interruptions, Not even Draco Malfoy came to bother them with his natural charm and what he thought was witticism.

That was about to change.

Not that Draco Malfoy would come up with something that was actually witty, that was as likely as Dudly Dursley sprouting a snout and a pair of wings, and starting to fly.

Nor that Draco Malfoy would come to bother the Gryffindor kids - not that he would have minded, it's just that he was elsewhere at the time.

What was about to change was the peaceful afternoon and the pastoral scenery around.

The old, pastoral, pan-European look the village has sported for ages (ever since it got rebuilt after the last time Voldemort's giants ran it over, a couple of months before.) and the simple quiet it harboured were soon broken with the sound of a car.

'A car? In Hogsmead? You got to be kidding!' though Hermione.

"A car? In Hogsmead? You got to be bloody kidding!" Said Ron

No, I wasn't kidding. I wanted a car, so a car I got.

Out of the car stepped a guy. That's very banal of him, but as I said in a dozen disclaimers so far, I'm not making any money from this, so my stories are low budget - I couldn't afford any of these flashy special affects like him jumping out and rolling while fireworks erupted in the background and trumpets proclaimed his arrival. So he just stepped out of the car.

"Hey, kids," he said.

"Hey, person who steps out of a car in the middle of a village he shouldn't be able to see and where his muggle devices shouldn't work anyway," said Hermione.

"Hey, girl who just have to point out plot-holes, the bossy know-it-all," said the man who stepped out of the car, etc. etc.

"Hey, that's my line, you, you person who steals other characters' lines!" said Ron angrily.

"Actually, Ron, it _is_ his line." said I.

"Oh," said Ron, blushing Weasley trademarked-red. "I'll let it pass this time, then."

"That's Okay," I said. "Back to the bossy know-it-all- "

"Hey!" said Hermione and the man who stepped out of a car.

"Oh, sorry." I said. "Back to the man who stepped out of a car, then."

"Hello boys, I'm Tom."

"Then why didn't you say so earlier?" I demanded, but he didn't hear me, as I was talking to him through my remote laptop computer, whereas he was bombarded by questions by the kids near him.

"Tom Riddle?" exclaimed Ginny, horrified.

"Tom the barkeep from the Leaky Cauldron?" said Ron, hungrily.

"Tom and Jerry?" asked Harry, reminiscing.

"Major Tom?" guessed Hermione, incorrectly.

Instead of arguing, Tom just nodded and said "yes".

"Now, I wanted to ask you, say, boys, this may sound a little odd, but , have you seen a talking towel around anywhere?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other.

Not wanting to be proclaimed a certified loon and catered off to St. Mungos, Ron kept quiet. However, as most people already thought Harry was insane, he wasn't bothered. And Tom didn't look like a healer. Come to think of it, he didn't look much like a mouse, either. 'He must be an animagus', he thought. 'Maybe he's related to Wormtail!'

"I may have." he said.

Tom started talking into a piece of plastic. "I've got a Code 5 at… can't seem to find that place on the map. I repeat, I've got a Code 5 somewhere!"

"You did? That's great!" exclaimed Tom. "Where is he, where did he go? He's not here with you right now?" said Tom, and all of a sudden soldiers came out of the bushes, military vehicles rolled in, helicopters crossed the sky, and Tom was looking very menacing.

"No, I send it away." said Harry.

"Oh," said Tom, and the place was emptied again. "Where did you send it?"

"I told the towel to go bother Voldemort." said Harry.

"Who?" asked Tom, bewildered.

"You-Know-Who!" explained Ron.

"I do?" asked Tom, even more bewildered. Bewildereder, one might say. Or perhaps bewilderier. But as it is my job to say it, as I am the one writing this story, I will go with "more bewildered". I did sign this publishing fiction guideline agreement to keep with the Queen's English when I joined ff-net, after all.

"Yes," said Harry, "Your cousin Peter works for him."

"Huh?"

"Look, just go to the village of Little Hangelton, on top of the hill you'll see a manor house, that's where he is. That's where he keeps his headquarters, at least, last checked. That's where that towel should be."

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"Oh no! we're to late, Towlie has already joined an evil organization trying to take over the world!" said Tom.

"How did you figure that, sir?' asked random subordinate #1.

"Who else would keep headquarters in such a dreary place then an insane lunatic with delusions of grandeur?" said Tom. It was very obvious, really.

"Oh, OK." said random subordinate #1. That is why Tom was the Tom and he was just random.

"Get everyone ready, we'll storm them."

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In his throne room, Lord Voldemort was busy initiating young Draco Malfoy into his service. That involved him touching his "magic wand" to the young boy's bare hand and…

In came Gibbon, running, then halted in front of his lord, panting for air.

"What is that?" demanded the Dark Lord. "I thought I left orders that I shouldn't be interrupted! _Crucio! Crucio! Christino-Agilario! Crucio!_"

"My lord!" struggled the Death Eater to say, in between shrieks, "We are under attack!"

"Attack? Who would dare attack me, at my stronghold?" demanded the Dark Lord.

But nobody knew, and all to soon, they were in no position to inquire.

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'How to get out of here alive?' wondered Draco, who had lost an eye, two fingers, and was bleeding from multiple cuts.

"Don't-forget-to-bring-a- towel" said Towlie, as he crawled out of the wreckage that used to be his holding cage. "You wanna get high?"

"Sure, why not" observed Draco. That muggle pain-relieving stuff really did it's job. 'Speaking of muggles, don't they use white flags to convoy their intent to surrender?'

"But where do I get a white flag in this mess?" he wondered aloud, wiping blood off his face.

"Don't forget to bring a towel!" said Towlie.

'Brilliant!' thought Draco. Only that towel has blue stripes. 'Oh well,' he thought, 'can't have everything.' and pulled his hair back with his hand. 'His hair! Of course!"

"Towel, come here." he ordered.

The Towel came over to Draco and he pulled out his hair-whitening potion, corked it open and, pinning the towel to the floor with his one good knee, commenced to cover it's stripes with the magical concoction, rendering it completely white.

'Now I just have to find a pole to put it on.'

Before he could think any thing else, a nearby shell exploded violently, rendering him deft for the moment.

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"Sir!' random soldier #347 called. "They are surrendering!"

"They are?" Tom asked, lifting his binoculars to his eyes. "Indeed. Lets go talk to them."

"Are you offering us your unconditional surrender?" asked Tom.

"Huh?" said Draco.

"Do you surrender?" repeated Tom. Pointing at the white flag he said: "You fly a white flag, do-you-surrender?"

Draco saw his gesture and got his meaning. Galling as it was, surrendering to Muggles, he had little choice. It took him many years and a bloody battle to learn, but he knew when to cut his losses. "I surrender", he said.

"Good, good, now do you have the towel?" asked Tom?

"Huh?" replied Draco.

"Sir," said random subordinate #5, "I don't think he can hear you, sir."

"Aren't you ever helpful," said Tom. "Well, we'll have to search the place. Search the kid as well, he may be hiding Towlie."

"I searched the kid, sir, he has no towel, just this white flag." said random soldier #89.

"Very well, let him go." Said Tom. After a thought, he added, "Tell him to take the flag with him. Wouldn't want any of our guys shoot him accidentally."

Before he left, Draco decided to give the muggles a hand, as a token of gratitude for them letting him off the hook so easily. He saw them searching around looking for the Dark Lord's body, but they didn't find anything, because it has combusted and was now no more then a pile of ashes.

"You should look over there", he told one of the soldiers and pointed to where the once mighty Lord Voldemort fell, his ashes laying on the ground, his once ornate expensive purple-blue robes singed and crumpling. Then Draco went on his way.

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"That's all your fault, Potter! You'll get yours!" said Draco, and was summarily banished by Dobby.

"Paint me blue, that is one mean elf you have there, Harry. You wanna get high?"

"You already got Winky painting you blue, remember? And You got Dobby high, now he's a high-elf instead of a house-elf. I wonder what will Hermione make of that?"

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**A/N**: I just wrote a three-colour trilogy. You'd think I'm French - a film director or something. To say the truth, I don't even know how to operate my video-player (so I lent it to my dad for recording some data with one of these weird machines they have in the labs, and never got it back) and the closest I get to being French is French-kissing… as if. I've actually been to French, on a professional conference followed by a vacation, and it only took me two and a half weeks to finally make my escape. Se a vida é! (couldn't hazard French, my spelling is horrible… just like their cheese.)

**Caution**: Sticking rats up your rectum is very dangerous, and is only done by professionals for entertainment purposes, or by insane evil overlords… for entertainment purposes. Don't try it at home. For your own safety, stick to hamsters for instead.

**P.S.**: I looked for a Towlie on youtube for the miserable sods among you who don't watch South-Park. I can't post links here on ffnet, so I'll pretend:

h t t p / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v Y r e p n r r E u K U

h t t p / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v S v d o o 7 - D e q I & m o d e r e l a t e d & s ea r c h

h t t p / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v U Y t v y Q s w A 5 Y & m o d e r e l a t e d& s e a r c h

h t t p / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m/ w a tc h? v 0 2u M L G3 J p Y& m o d e r e l a te d & s e a r c h

h t t p / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v E x Y T j K Q4 Fi I & m o d e r e l a t ed & se a r c h

I hoped this will work. Just remove the spaces.

Anyway, if there wasn't one before, I think after this story, there really should be a Towlie-ban.


End file.
